https://archive.palanq.win/bant/thread/20161434/#q20269341>[Of course it's Tala.]The Hardcore Champion is revelling in the pain. Blissful agony. She can't see straight. Something in her hand spasms. Ooh, it's heaven. Every strike from her monstrous Samoan opponent rattles her skull and sends a satisfying shiver down Cactus' spine. But perhaps Tala had forgotten, or maybe she was unaware of a simple fact about the thing they call Cactus: she bites.
In desperation, Cactus lunges and latches her 26 teeth onto Tala's face. Nose, cheeks, lips; it hardly matters. Then again to the hand; she'll take the finger home as a souvenir if possible, but bah, it won't come off. Back into the ring the final two competitors go, and Cactus just... feels like dancing. With Tala in her grips she waltzes across the bloodstained mat, before dropping her most recent championship challenger with a facebuster. Not quite sealed with the kiss, but as Cactus' hands once again pull at the squishy pink insides of Tala's mouth, the match is hers, with a second straight victory over the dominant newcomer.
Cactus again holds the title high. It hurts to lift the belt, but the pain gives Cactus something to strive toward. To get more hurt. To earn more pain. To win with more injuries. More blood. Morebandage... moresrathc more. more. oe moer e meoomr omere omremoemoreomreo omo eormermore moremoe moermoer
>[The thing they call Cactus screams it into the camera.]More.
